Brotherhood
by Scrawlers
Summary: "Sibling relationships outlast marriages, survive the death of parents, resurface after quarrels that would sink any friendship. They flourish in a thousand incarnations of closeness and distance, warmth, loyalty and distrust." Hubert, Asbel, 30 prompts.
1. Look Over Here

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Tales of Graces.

**Note: **The summary quote was originally said by Erica E. Goode. I did not come up with it.

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><p><span>Brotherhood<span>

**One: Eye Contact**

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><p>Asbel Lhant was fifteen months old, and he had absolutely no idea what was going on.<p>

It didn't _seem _like anything was out of the ordinary. He was in his house, like normal, and there were maids around, like normal. He didn't know where his parents were, except he thought that maybe they were in their room, which he was currently being kept out of. Not that he _wanted _to be in there, because he was a big boy – Daddy had said so – and so he didn't need to see his parents all the time. But he'd just learned to walk a few months ago, and so he wanted to walk down around the hallway and to his room to play with his toys, but every time he tried to go, his parents' friend – Frederic – grabbed him and pulled him back, saying, "No, young master, you must _stay still_." That didn't sit very well with Asbel at all, because he didn't like _staying still_, and he tried to say so.

Unfortunately, though he was a pretty good walker (and runner!), he wasn't too good at talking, yet. The jumble of syllables that came out of his mouth just served to make Frederic laugh, which just caused Asbel to puff out his cheeks in consternation.

Finally, after what seemed like _forever_, like _longer _than forever, his parents' door opened. Frederic stood up, scooping up Asbel around the waist and swinging him into the air, only for the big hands of Asbel's father to take him next. Asbel wasn't the biggest fan of being carried, and so he started squirming, but his father only laughed and held him close.

"Now, now, Asbel, you little rascal. Come here, and meet your little brother." That got Asbel to stop squirming.

His little what?

His Mommy and Daddy had been talking about something for a long time now – something called a "baby." And sometimes they would talk to Asbel about the "baby," and tell him that he was going to be a "big brother." Usually they would say this while patting Mommy's belly, which kept getting bigger and bigger, like one of his balls. But now he was apparently going to meet his "little brother," whatever that was – Asbel supposed it was like a "big brother," but . . . little.

Now if he could just figure out what a "brother" was.

"Asbel." His Mommy was in her bed, propped up against her pillows, just like she propped him up against his pillows when it was story time. She smiled at him as Daddy brought him over and set him down on the bed, but at the same time, Asbel thought she looked sleepy. Maybe it was time for _her _story time, and that was why they brought him in. He could pick out some good ones. "Here. Come say hi to your baby brother."

There was that word again. _Brother. _And this time it was paired with _baby_. Asbel's Daddy stood right behind him, hands hovering around him (Asbel hated when the grown-ups did that – he could walk on his own!), as he walked over to his Mommy to get a better look at the bundle in her arms. Said bundle was wrapped in a white blanket, and when Asbel leaned over to get a closer look (his Daddy's hands now loosely holding him by the waist so he didn't fall), he got a shock.

The thing in the bundle was _looking _at him. Bright blue eyes stared out from a wrinkled pink face, a tuft of blue hair – like Mommy's – resting on top. Asbel could only stare back. He couldn't even think of anything to try and say.

_This _was "little brother?"

Just as she always did when Asbel saw something he didn't quite understand, Mommy explained. "Asbel, this is your little brother, Hubert. Can you say 'hello' to Hubert?"

Asbel knew what his Mommy wanted him to say, but he was never very good at repeating what they wanted him to say, either. Instead, he stared at this bundle, this little red, wrinkled thing, his lips pressed tightly together. The little bundle with blue hair – his "little brother" – stared right back.

"Asbel?" his Mommy prompted. Not taking his eyes away from those blue ones, Asbel said:

"Li'l . . . brover."

His Mommy gasped, and for a moment, Asbel thought he did something wrong; he looked away from Little Brother and up at Mommy, just as she looked up at Daddy. "Oh, Aston—"

"Well, would you look at that." Daddy laughed and picked Asbel up again, spinning him around, and while Asbel didn't like being picked up (he could _walk_ now!), he did like it when Daddy spun him around, just a little. "His first words. Looks like you were made to be a big brother, Asbel."

"Big brover" Asbel said, smiling, pleased that someone could _finally _understand what he was trying to say. His Daddy now securing him from around the waist, Asbel pointed over at the little bundle in Mommy's arms and declared, "Li'l brover."

"That's right, Asbel," Daddy said, and Daddy sounded so happy – so _proud_, and he was smiling all big and wide. Asbel beamed. "You're Hubert's big brother now. That means you have to look out for him – keep him safe. He's your responsibility, now."

"Re-son-bil-ty," Asbel tried, and Daddy laughed again, setting him back down on the bed.

"Close enough, son."

"Asbel, why don't you try giving Hubert a kiss?" Mommy shifted Little Brother so that he was closer to Asbel, and Asbel – his Daddy holding his waist again, just in case – bent down to plant a big kiss on Little Brother's forehead, just as he always did on Mommy's cheek at bed time.

"Good boy, Asbel," Mommy said, and Asbel smiled again as he looked down at Little Brother. He couldn't help it. For some reason, being a Big Brother – and having a Little Brother – made him feel really happy. And really, that made all of the _staying still _kind of worth it.


	2. Letter

**Two: Questions**

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><p>Mommy and Daddy had been acting strangely all day.<p>

Usually, Asbel didn't pay too much attention to Mommy and Daddy during the day. He was six now, which meant that he really was a big boy, and he could go play wherever he wanted, so long as he didn't leave the manor grounds. Hubert was only five, but so long as Asbel was around, he could play wherever he wanted, too.

Yep, Asbel was in charge of protecting his little brother – which made sense, considering he was the big brother. After all, if he was the big brother, then he was bigger, and stronger, and always right, right? Right!

But anyway, the point was, Asbel usually didn't pay too much attention to Mommy and Daddy during the day, because that was his and Hubert's play time, and play time was serious business. (Unless, of course, he had to sit down for _lessons_, which he didn't like but put up with, anyway, because Hubert sat in on lessons with him, even though they said he didn't have to.)

But today, Mommy and Daddy were acting weirdly enough to catch even Asbel's attention, and it had all started when Daddy received a letter that morning. He'd torn it open and read it right there in the foyer, something that Asbel noticed as he and Hubert went down the stairs (and he was holding Hubert's hand, just in case, since Hubert was walking down the middle of the stairs instead of holding onto the railings, and Hubert was kind of clumsy). Mommy and Daddy hadn't looked happy, and ever since then, Daddy had stormed around the house looking grumpy and upset, while Mommy seemed close to crying every time Asbel saw her. It was really weird, but every time Asbel tried to ask about it, Mommy just smiled and told him to go play with Hubert. That was how they ended up out in the garden, trying to color on the ground with red colored rocks.

"Hey, Azzy?"

"Hm?" Asbel didn't look up from his drawing of a dinosaur at first, and only did when he was met with silence. "What, Hubert?"

Hubert had his bottom lip poking out, his eyebrows meeting in a very worried expression. He didn't _look _like he was about to start crying, but he looked close enough that Asbel tossed his rock all the way across the walkway, suddenly a bit worried himself. "What is it? What's wrong? Didja hurt yourself?"

"No." Hubert shook his head, looking down. He hadn't drawn anything, yet, but there were little red scratches on the ground to show that he'd at least tried. "Azzy, why does Mommy keep crying? Why is Daddy mad?"

Asbel loved his little brother. He really did. But Hubert had a tendency to ask a lot of questions, and more than that, he had a tendency to ask _hard _questions. 'Why is the sky blue?' 'Why is Cheria sick?' 'Why do people keep calling Daddy 'lord'? What does that mean, Azzy?'

And now: 'Why does Mommy keep crying?' 'Why is Daddy mad?'

In these situations, Asbel always did one of two things. He either gave the honest answer, or he made one up.

"I don't know, Hubert." The honest answer. "Maybe they saw something scary." The made up answer.

Yeah, sometimes he just went for broke and did both.

Hubert frowned, looking unsure, and Asbel knew what that look meant; it meant that more questions were waiting just behind Hubert's pouting lips. And sure enough:

"Are you sure? Daddy didn't look scared, he looked mad . . ."

"Well, I don't know," Asbel huffed. Hubert didn't seem satisfied, and instead just kept watching him expectantly, and so Asbel – knowing that this meant that he _had _to provide an answer, no matter what – stood up and offered a hand to Hubert. "But I bet it has to do with that letter."

"Letter?" Hubert took Asbel's hand, and Asbel tugged his little brother to his feet. Asbel nodded.

"Didn't you see? Dad got a paper this morning. He read it, and then he and Mom started acting funny. I bet the letter's in Dad's study. We could look at it, and see." Asbel wasn't very fond of reading, but he knew the basic gist, and Hubert was starting to read, too. His little brother was a fast learner. Hubert's eyes widened.

"We're not allowed in Daddy's study."

"So? We're big boys, now. We can go in anyway." Asbel grinned. "You in?" Hubert was still frowning, shifting his weight from foot to foot, wringing his fingers together. But Asbel knew Hubert's answer before Hubert himself did, because Hubert was only allowed outside if Asbel was with him, and Asbel was going inside to get the letter.

"I . . . guess . . ."

"Cool! Let's go." Asbel grabbed Hubert's hand and began to pull him toward the house, running, because why not run? Hubert stumbled and ran clumsily along with his brother, but with Asbel holding his hand, there was no way he could fall. And their daddy's study was right off the foyer, anyway, so Asbel was able to tug Hubert over to it almost as soon as they were in the house. Hubert crouched low, staying near the wall, as if he could blend into it and not be seen. Asbel, meanwhile, peered in through the crack of the slightly ajar, mahogany door.

"I don't think he's in there," he whispered, though he didn't know why he was whispering. Hubert started whispering, too.

"But what if he comes in? What if we get in trouble? What if—"

"If we stay here, we will," Asbel interrupted. He looked around quickly, but there was no one else around to catch them. He grinned. "C'mon, let's go!" He took his little brother's hand again, and – throwing caution to the wind – pushed the door open and pulled Hubert inside.

Their daddy's study was _huge_. Everything seemed gigantic to Asbel, from the bookcases, to the desk, to the chairs. He had actually been in here once or twice, when his mommy had brought him and Hubert in, but that didn't make this sight any less impressive – especially since he and Hubert were now in there by themselves. It seemed to take a year to cross from the threshold of the door to the desk, and even after they made it over, Asbel still wasn't tall enough to see on the top. He pouted.

To think, the maids had said he was growing "like a weed" . . .

"Where's the letter?" Hubert asked, and Asbel didn't really know, but he made his best guess anyway and pointed to the top of the desk.

"Up there. We've just gotta get up there and find it." He looped around the desk and started toward his daddy's chair, though Hubert grabbed the back of his shirt. Asbel looked over his shoulder. "What?"

"Azzy, we're really not s'posed to be in here," Hubert said, and he sounded genuinely worried. "And you're not s'posed to get in Daddy's chair! He'll get mad!" Asbel rolled his eyes, and gently removed Hubert's hand from his shirt.

"Don't be a baby, Hubert. I'll be fine! Wait there." With that, Asbel turned and scrambled up into the large, leather chair. It seemed to engulf him. He couldn't even see the desk when he was sitting in it, forcing him to stand completely up on the seat, just so that the top of the desk could come up to his waist. Really, the desk seemed like untamed wilderness, for as neat as it was (far neater than Asbel's desk, which was covered in half-finished drawings and a few books), it looked vast to Asbel, and he didn't even know where to start.

"Do you see it?" Hubert asked, voice hushed. Asbel twisted his lips in thought.

"Hmm . . ." Asbel leaned forward, hands on the desk, looking at all the papers on top. They were all stacked into neat piles and yellowish folders—a stark difference from how Asbel stored things. He didn't get a close enough look at the letter that morning to really see what it looked like, and so he grabbed a paper at random – one that wasn't stacked on others, just because. "I think maybe this is it."

"What's it say? Let me see!" Hubert moved over to the chair, leaning against it and craning his neck as Asbel dropped into a seated position.

"Umm . . . it says . . ." Asbel frowned, squinting hard at the letters written on the paper, trying to sound them out. "'Dear Lord As . . . ton . . . Dear Lord Aston—'"

"That's Daddy," Hubert supplied, and Asbel huffed.

"I know that, Hubert, shush! 'Dear Lord Aston: We re . . . gret to in . . . in_for_m you that your bro . . . ther . . . brother, Aldan Lhant, has passed—"

"Asbel? Hubert? What are you doing in here?"

Hubert gasped and jumped behind the chair, as if that could hide him, and Asbel jumped so that his finger slid along the edge of the letter, giving him a paper cut. He quickly kissed the wound, as his mother would, before sticking his finger in his mouth. Their father stood in the doorway, but while he'd looked upset all day, he didn't necessarily look _mad _now; just off-guard.

"Um . . . reading," Asbel said, because he couldn't think of anything better to say. Hubert made a little unhappy noise from behind the chair, and he added, "Hubert's not here, though. It's just me, Daddy."

"Don't lie to me, Asbel." Their daddy sounded tired, somehow, like he needed a nap or a little bit of sugar, and he walked into the room, toward them. Asbel quickly tossed the letter on the desk. "I saw him when I came in, and you two are never apart, besides."

"Are . . . Are we in trouble, Daddy?" Hubert asked, voice tiny as he came around the chair. Their daddy looked down at his youngest son, and Asbel couldn't be sure, but he almost thought he saw a smile.

"No, Hubert. Not this time." Their daddy bent down to pick Hubert up, giving him a hug, and Asbel relaxed, because while he didn't mind being in trouble so much (like Time Out could bother _him_), he really would have felt bad if Hubert got punished, too. "Though you both know you're not allowed to be in here. Asbel, you in particular know better."

"I know," Asbel muttered, and even though he didn't mind getting in trouble, he did feel a little guilty due to his daddy's tone. His daddy didn't sound mad, after all; just . . . _disappointed. _And as far as Asbel was concerned, "disappointed" was always worse than "mad."

Their daddy sighed. "Well, I can let it slide, this time." He reached out and mussed Asbel's hair, making it even messier than before, and Asbel couldn't help smile a little, hopping down from the chair as their daddy set Hubert back on his feet. "Now, why don't you two run along and play? I saw a half-finished dinosaur drawn on the patio out in the garden."

"That was mine," Asbel said proudly. "I drew it there to eat the ants on the ground." Hubert frowned a little, tilting his head to the side.

"But Azzy, it's just a drawlin'. It can't eat the ants."

"Sure it can," Asbel said, folding his arms. "'Cause it's a dinosaur, and it's a magic drawing."

"A magic drawlin'?"

"Yup, 'cause I drew it with the red rock. All red rock drawings are magic drawings that can come to life. So, my dinosaur will come to life and chomp all the ants." Hubert was still frowning, but this time his frown contained a bit of disbelief. Sometimes, Asbel found himself surprised by how skeptical his five-year-old brother could be.

"Nu-uh. Drawlin's can't come to life even if they're drawed by red rocks. You're teasing me again, Azzy."

"Nu-uh, am not," Asbel insisted. "It's true, and you know why?" Before Hubert could answer, Asbel said, "'Cause I said so, and I'm your big brother, and that means I'm always right!"

Their daddy laughed, then, and for a second, Asbel had almost forgotten he was in the room. "Well, why don't you two go see who is or isn't right outside?" he suggested, and he gave them light little pushes – just enough to get them walking, not enough to push them over – toward the door. "I look forward to seeing what you two come up with."

Right then, at that moment, Asbel just took Hubert's hand and led them out of their daddy's study, their daddy closing the door behind them. At that moment, it didn't occur to him how strange that was—he didn't remember that their daddy usually corrected the stories he made up, usually told Hubert what the truth was instead of letting him believe whatever Asbel came up with. No, Asbel wasn't thinking of that right then, though there was something else relevant on his mind.

"Hey . . . that's kinda weird, isn't it, Hubert?"

"What is?" Hubert looked up at Asbel, who frowned.

"The letter said that Daddy had a brother—you know, like you and me. I wonder where he is?" Hubert's eyes widened a bit before he canted his head, frowning a little himself.

"I . . . I dunno, Azzy."

"Hm." Asbel just kept frowning, and for a reason he didn't understand, his chest felt a little tight and he held Hubert's hand a little tighter. "Weird."


	3. jolt!

**Three: The Circus**

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><p>Asbel was nine, Hubert was eight, and Asbel couldn't sit still because the<em> circus <em>had come to Lhant.

"I'm still not certain about this," his mother said, and Asbel barely managed to bite back a groan. He'd seen the brightly colored caravans roll through town from his bedroom window that morning, and though he'd never experienced the circus, just seeing the streamers and banners had been enough to set him off. He'd nearly dragged Hubert out of the manor, and the two had almost made it out of the garden before their parents had spotted them. "There are so many people gathered in town right now. What if something were to happen? Perhaps we should send Frederic or Bailey with them . . ."

"Mom, we don't _need_ a babysitter!" Asbel tried to sound firm, but his voice came out sounding closer to a whine. "I'm _nine years old_! I can look out for myself!"

"It's not just yourself that you need to watch out for," his father said sternly, and Asbel couldn't resist an eye roll this time. "You also need to watch out for your brother."

"I _know_ that," Asbel said, and petulance rang loud and clear in his voice. "I always watch out for Hubert." This much was true, and Asbel's mulish expression dared anyone to deny it. There were a lot of responsibilities he slacked on, and he would freely admit that. His desk was a mess, as was his portion of the laundry pile, and he rarely kept up with his studies. He put absolutely no effort in training to be a future lord, and though he'd promised Cheria three weeks ago that he'd help her fix her broken doll house, he had yet to do it. But he never, ever stopped looking out for his little brother, and he had no intention of starting now.

"I can look out for myself, too," Hubert muttered beside him. Asbel glanced over. "I'm eight. That's not that much younger than nine."

"Yeah, but I'm your big brother," Asbel said, and he reached over to pat Hubert on the back. "So, watching out for you is my job." Hubert looked like he wanted to contest this, but their father spoke up before he could.

"That's right, and it's a job that you must take very seriously, Asbel." Asbel huffed, about to say _again_ that he _very obviously _took it seriously, when his father continued speaking. "Kerri, I believe the boys will be fine. We are in Lhant, after all, and they know better than to leave the city."

"Who would want to leave, anyway?" Asbel said, and he was already grinning ear-to-ear. Their father's word was usually law, so if he was saying they would be fine . . . "The circus is _here_, not out _there_."

"Exactly." His father actually smiled a little, and Asbel felt his heart soar. His mother frowned.

"Aston, are you certain? I still can't help but think . . ."

"So long as Asbel knows to look after Hubert, yes, I am." Asbel's father reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, the smile gone. "I'm serious, Asbel. Keep an eye on your brother at all times."

"I will, I will! I always do." Asbel shrugged his father's hand off, and then looked over at Hubert, grinning broadly. "Ready to go, Hubert? We're going to tear this circus up!"

"Tear it up?" Hubert seemed uncertain, and Asbel knew why; his over-anxious little brother was probably already thinking about the sheer destruction Asbel could cause (Asbel would proudly admit that he was a conqueror of kingdoms, giant among men, and destroyer of worlds), and about how much trouble they would get into because of it. Even so, Asbel knew that Hubert wouldn't decline a chance to go along, especially because Asbel himself would just drag Hubert there, anyway. Their parents, however, frowned.

"Asbel . . ." their father started, as Asbel started walking down the lane toward the main street, Hubert following along. "What do you mean, 'tear it up?' You better behave yourself, or—"

"C'mon, Hubert, time's wasting!" Just as Asbel's father began to scold him, Asbel took off running, sprinting down to the street and taking a sharp turn around the corner, toward the main part of town. Hubert's reflexes weren't the best yet, and so Asbel was sure that it took him a minute to catch on to what was happening, especially when he heard:

"A-Azzy! Big brother! Wait up!"

from behind him. Even so, Asbel wouldn't slow down—couldn't slow down.

After all, the circus had finally come to Lhant, and he wasn't going to miss a single second of it.

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><p>The circus was set up in the main square, with a variety of tents set up around the plaza. In truth, it was more of a carnival than a circus; there were monster tamers who worked with monsters kept in iron cages, but there wasn't a tight rope, or any large, central tent for shows to take place. Instead, smaller shows took place all around the plaza, with a variety of games and gimmicks to attract kids. At any rate, it certainly attracted Asbel, and even Hubert – who arrived a few seconds after his brother due to not being able to run as fast – looked upon the spectacle with awe and wonder. There was so much to behold that at first Asbel didn't know where to start, though he had a jingling allowance that was burning a hole in his pocket, and he spotted a few kids walking around with large tufts of cotton candy.<p>

"Asbel! Hubert!"

"Aw, man," Asbel muttered, and he looked up to see Cheria Barnes running toward him, her pink hair tied back in a ponytail that bounced along her shoulders. As she neared, he could see that she was breathing with some difficulty, and her cheeks looked flushed even though she hadn't run that far at all.

Despite his less than enthusiastic reaction to seeing her, Asbel didn't dislike Cheria. Far from it, actually – she was his second best friend, after Hubert. No, it was more that every time they saw each other, they ended up arguing, usually because Asbel either didn't do something Cheria wanted him to do (though she rarely outright said what it was that she wanted him to do), or because he _did_ do something that she _didn't _want him to do (same deal). Lately, she kept mentioning princess stories wherein the handsome prince would kiss the princess to bring her back from death or some such, and usually came down with a mysterious fever that caused her to faint soon after. After the third time this happened, Asbel had mentioned that perhaps she should stop talking about the stories if they kept making her sick, at which point she called him an idiot, said he was unbelievable, and stormed off.

They didn't speak for three whole days after that, though Asbel still couldn't figure out _why _she'd gotten mad at him in the first place.

In any case, she approached them now, and while Asbel felt as though his day had just gained a touch of annoyance, Hubert smiled brightly when he saw her.

"Hi, Cheria! Are you okay? You look a bit tired."

"N-No! I'm fine," Cheria insisted, though Asbel could hear the strain on her breathing in her voice. This fact only caused his frown to persist. She matched his frown with one of her own, placing her hands on her hips. "What's that look for, Asbel? I said I'm fine!"

"I know you did," Asbel retorted, a bit indignantly. "I didn't say anything about that. I was just wondering if you were actually talking to me now, or if you were still mad at me because you got sick over your princess stories." Cheria's cheeks got a bit darker, and she stomped her foot.

"I did not get sick over my princess stories, Asbel! That wasn't what happened at all!"

"You fainted every time you told me about one of them! They obviously made you sick, Cheria!"

"Did not! You're so unbe_lie_vable!"

"How am I—"

"Guys!" Both Asbel and Cheria looked over at Hubert, then, who was wringing his fingers in front of him—something he usually did whenever he got nervous. Asbel felt a guilty little flip in his stomach, then, wondering if Hubert had tried getting their attention before that, only for Asbel to not notice until he raised his voice. "How about we just not talk about the princess stories for now? We can still have fun at the circus without them."

"Yeah, that's true," Asbel said, nodding once. After all, Cheria and her princess story fevers were not the reason he'd gone to the circus, and he was determined to have a good time regardless of anything else. "Sound good to you, Cheria?" Cheria huffed, her lips still puffed out in a pout.

"Yes, of course it is! I never said anything about my princess stories until _you _brought them up, Asbel!" She turned around, her ponytail spinning around her, and Asbel made a face and soundlessly mocked her words. Hubert hid a giggle behind his fist. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's go explore!"

"Yeah, yeah, we were already planning on it!" Asbel stuffed his hands into his sweatshirt pockets, but Cheria turned back around, her cheeks a little bit flushed again as she held out her hand toward him. He stared at it. "What?"

"Aren't you—we should hold hands!" Cheria's cheeks turned even darker, to the point where they almost matched her hair, and Asbel gave her a strange look. This just caused her to blush even more.

"What for? Do you think you'll get lost? And hey, are you sure you're feeling okay? Your face looks really red."

"I—I already said I'm fine!" Cheria's voice was shrill enough to attract attention at this point, and Asbel didn't quite manage to hold back a groan. "Why don't you ever understand what I'm saying? You're really unbelievable, Asbel!"

"If I'm so unbelievable, why do you keep hanging out with me?" he demanded, but Cheria only gave him a furious look before she turned and stomped off, heading farther into the carnival. Asbel had half a mind to just let her stomp off and work out her temper by herself, but the other half of him knew that he shouldn't. They'd already gone three days without speaking, and his father had already scolded him for making Cheria upset when her health was so frail. The last thing he needed was for her to pass out again or something. "Wait, Cheria! Ugh, come on, Hubert."

"Okay, big brother." Hubert sounded as disappointed about this as Asbel felt, and that only added fuel to Asbel's fire, causing him to start running into the ground. He could hear Hubert's footsteps behind him as he dodged around and pushed through the people, but fortunately, it didn't seem as though Cheria had gone very far. Her weakened constitution cost her, and she was standing near one of the small vendor's booths – a ring toss game, from the looks of it – one hand to her chest as she panted.

"Cheria!" Asbel didn't stop running until he reached her, and she looked up at him in surprise. "There you are. What didja go running off like that for? You're gonna pass out or something, you idiot." Cheria's surprise melted quickly into anger.

"Don't call . . . me an idiot . . . Asbel," she gasped, her small hands clenched into fists. "I ran . . . because you're . . ."

"Unbelievable?" he deadpanned. Her brown eyes flared.

"An unbelievable . . . _jerk_!" She reached out and pushed him, causing him to stumble, and Asbel considered it lucky that she was both sickly _and _a girl, or else he would have pushed her back.

"I am not! I just don't understand you, Cheria. What do you have to be mad about?"

"Everything!" Cheria began to cough, and Asbel felt guilt worm its way through him, especially as she started to choke when she tried to speak again. "I-I'm mad a-about ev-every-everything."

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" He meant it, too, as he watched how much trouble she had just _breathing_, let alone speaking. He still had no idea why she got so mad at him, but whatever the reason was, it wasn't important enough for her to seriously endanger her own health like that. "Just try to calm down. You can't have fun at the circus if you die, you know."

Some of the anger faded from Cheria's eyes and she nodded, working to calm her breathing down. Though he didn't know if it would really help or not, Asbel reached out and put a hand on her back, lightly patting her shoulder until some of the redness left her cheeks and her breathing returned to normal. Once it was easier for her to breathe, Cheria smiled at him, and Asbel gave her a small smile back.

"Thanks, Asbel," she said. "I'm sorry I got so mad." Asbel laughed.

"Don't worry about it. Happens all the time." Cheria pursed her lips, and Asbel – wondering if he was going to get in trouble for _that_, too – decided to change the subject quickly. "Anyway, let's start exploring the circus. I wanna see all of the cool monsters, and maybe play some of the games or something. And definitely get some of that cotton candy. How 'bout you, Hubert? What do you want to check out first?" Asbel turned to look at his little brother, but was met with nothing but empty space. "Huh? Hubert?"

"Where did he go?" Cheria asked, sounding confused and even a bit worried as she glanced around. Asbel spun on the spot, but his little brother wasn't anywhere by him, and a scan of the nearby area didn't reveal a tuft of blue hair or a green sweater, either.

"Hubert?" Asbel called, his heart starting to beat a bit faster with each second that passed without a sign of his brother. "Hubert? Little brother? Hey, where are you? Hubert!"

"Do you think he might have wandered off?" Cheria asked, and Asbel barely restrained from snapping that if he knew what Hubert had done or where he was, he wouldn't be calling for him. "Or maybe he got separated from you when you were running over here."

"He was right behind me," Asbel said, and he couldn't stop that from coming out as a bit of a snap. "I know he was, I heard him."

"But you were running through a lot of people, Asbel."

"I said he was right behind me!" Cheria flinched, and Asbel felt a bit bad, but he could barely spare the time to look at her as he scanned the crowd around him for his brother. No such luck. "Hubert! Hey, Hubert! Agh—excuse me! Excuse me, wait!" He reached out and grabbed the shirt of a passing woman, who looked down at him in surprise. He didn't recognize her – she certainly wasn't from Lhant – but . . . "Excuse me, have you seen a little boy with blue hair recently? He's wearing a green sweater, and—and he has blue eyes like mine, and he probably looked kinda scared." Because if he was separated from Asbel, then he was definitely scared. The woman seemed to think on it a moment before she shook her head, and Asbel's heart sank.

"No, I can't say that I have. Is he your friend?"

"He's my little brother," Asbel said, and he didn't know why he sounded or felt so defensive – he just did. The woman looked worried for just a moment before she smiled kindly.

"Well, maybe he's with your parents."

"My parents didn't come today. They stayed home." Even as he spoke the words, Asbel felt his stomach drop. His father had specifically reminded him to watch out for Hubert, and Asbel had brushed his words off because he _always_ watched out for Hubert. But now Hubert was gone, and Asbel . . .

"Do you live here in Lhant, young man?"

"Yes."

"Well, then maybe he went home." The woman reached out and patted his head, and Asbel hated it – he hated how she was treating him like a child, hated how she acted like Hubert being _missing _wasn't a big deal, when it was. "You should probably check there before you do anything else."

"Okay. Thank you." Asbel's words weren't sincere at all, but the woman seemed to buy them anyway as she turned to continue her way through the crowd. When Asbel looked back to Cheria, he saw that worry was creasing her forehead, and her eyes looked uncertain.

"Are you going to check back your house first?"

"Of course not. Hubert wouldn't go home without me." Asbel was certain of this—absolutely positive. Hubert had wanted to go to the circus, too, and he'd never return home without telling Asbel first. Granted, he wouldn't just wander off without telling Asbel first, either, but . . . "Come on. He has to be close by. We just have to find him."

Finding him proved more difficult than Asbel hoped. Holding Cheria's hand so as not to lose her, too, Asbel darted through the crowd, his eyes peeled for any sign of his little brother, calling out just in case Hubert heard him before he saw him. Cheria, too, called out for him, and she seemed more inclined to stop people and ask if they'd seen him around; a few people pointed in the directions they thought they'd spotted him, but each person pointed in a different direction, and Asbel found himself more irritated and scared by the second.

Hubert was gone. He was just _gone_. There was no sign of him and Asbel had no idea what to do.

"Maybe we should go ask someone for help," Cheria said. By this point they were near West Lhant Road, standing by the apple tree, the circus all but forgotten behind them. "We can ask Grandpa, or some of the guards—"

"We don't need to ask anyone for help," Asbel said roughly, though this was more out of stubbornness than anything else. He clenched his fist. "Hubert is my little brother, and I can find him myself." Cheria bit her lip.

"But, Asbel, we've been looking for a really long time, and—"

"I don't care!" Asbel exploded, and once again Cheria flinched, but by this point Asbel was so upset that he didn't care, even if it wasn't her fault. "I'll look forever if I have to! Hubert's _my _little brother, and so I'm not gonna just give up!"

"I wasn't saying to give up!" Cheria cried, and her eyes looked oddly bright. Asbel couldn't help but glare at her, though he tried not to. It wasn't so much that he was glaring at _her_, anyway, as it was that he was just _glaring_ and she just so happened to be in his line of sight. "I just . . . I just thought . . . I'm sorry."

He let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, though his heart was still beating like crazy. "It's okay," he said, and a part of him realized that _he _should be the one apologizing for yelling, but yelling at Cheria wasn't nearly as big of a problem as losing his little brother was. "I just . . . I . . ."

"Asbel?" Cheria looked back at him, and he could hear the confusion in her voice, though he was no longer looking at her. "Asbel? What is it?"

The apple tree was near enough to the entrance point to West Lhant Road that – when standing under the tree's branches – one could see down the road a good portion of the way. Asbel was staring down it now not because it was particularly interesting, but because a group of men had gathered just a little ways down the way. They were around his dad's age, if he had to guesstimate, and they looked to be dirty and greasy, with torn and muddy clothes and ratty hair tied back. They were likely bandits, but none of that was important. Those little tidbits weren't what grabbed Asbel's attention.

No, what had Asbel staring at them was the fact that they were all gathered around something – or rather, someone. The someone they were circled around was a child, his arm held tightly in the grasp of one of the bandits, his eyes squeezed shut as he shook in fear.

"Asbel!" Cheria gasped. She'd finally noticed what he was looking at, and he felt her grab his arm. "Asbel, is that . . . _Hubert_?"

It was. It was Hubert. His little brother.

Asbel wasn't near enough to hear what they were saying, but he was near enough to see one of them pull some kind of dirty rag out of their pocket and pour something on it. Then, while the one holding Hubert held him in place, the one with the rag shoved it over Hubert's face, causing him to kick and struggle for a moment before he went limp, dropping to the ground like one of Cheria's broken dolls.

And that – seeing that – was what made Asbel snap.

Losing Hubert was bad enough. Seeing Hubert scared and surrounded by strangers that were holding him there was even worse. But watching as they made Hubert pass out somehow was the final straw. Asbel started running before he even realized he was running, charging straight for the bandits despite the fact that Cheria was screaming at him to stop. As he ran, Asbel crouched down and scooped up a thick stick off the ground, wielding it like one would a sword. And for one, shining moment, he was no longer just a nine year old, but rather, a knight from the Kingdom of Windor, rushing forward to defend and protect someone he cared about. Of course, that wasn't _really_ the case, but he _was _a big brother, and sometimes being a big brother was even better than being a knight.

The one thing Asbel had going for him was the element of surprise, and so he was able to get the first attack in, swinging his stick hard at the knee of the bandit holding Hubert. The man shouted in surprise and (Asbel hoped) pain, and dropped Asbel's little brother on the ground. Hubert had been forced to pass out, so he collapsed with a thud and didn't move, and though Asbel _did _want the bandits to get away from Hubert, the sight of them just dropping him carelessly to the dirt just made Asbel even angrier.

"What the—who is this kid?" one of the bandits asked, and Asbel stepped protectively over Hubert, brandishing his stick like a broadsword.

"I'm Asbel Lhant, and if you know what's good for you, you'll get away from my little brother," he proclaimed, tilting his chin up in an attempt to look down at all of them. The bandits exchanged looks, quiet for a moment, before they burst out laughing. Asbel frowned.

That wasn't exactly the reaction he was hoping for.

"Two for the price of one? This is perfect." The bandit originally holding Hubert reached down and grabbed the back of Asbel's sweatshirt, picking him straight up off the ground. Immediately, Asbel began to squirm and thrash, but he seemed unable to wriggle out of his sweatshirt, and the bandit held him firm regardless. "Double the ransom, double the fun. Hey, drug this one too, Earl."

"You got it." The other bandit – the one with the skinnier arms, named Earl, apparently – pulled out the same rag they'd shoved against Hubert's face. Asbel didn't know what was on it, but it looked dirty and gross and he didn't plan on fainting any time soon. "C'mere, ya little bugger."

"Screw you!" Asbel snapped. Technically, he wasn't supposed to say things like that, but technically, he wasn't supposed to get kidnapped, either. As Earl neared, Asbel swung his stick, hitting Earl's wrist to knock it away before he swung and caught Earl in the face. Earl hissed in pain and smacked a hand over his now wounded eye, and Asbel took the opportunity to twist just enough to smack his own captor in the face with the stick, too. He was dropped instantly, and it was only through virtue of good reflexes that he managed to not land _on top of _Hubert, but rather, _standing over _him. Asbel shifted his stance, glaring, holding his stick just as he'd always seen his father wield his sword. The bandit that had been holding him glowered though one eye, one hand rubbing his injured eye as the other reached for his sword.

"So, you wanna play kid? Fine. Let's play." He pulled a dirty iron sword out of the sheath at his waist, and Asbel actually felt a little thrill of fear flash through him. He was more than ready to defend his brother, but even he wasn't foolish enough to think a stick could stand against a real sword. "See how you like this, you little brat!"

Asbel shut his eyes and moved his stick up, hoping against hope that he'd be able to block the blow. With his eyes shut, the loud _clang _of metal against metal sounded louder than ever, and Asbel opened his eyes in shock to see that a sword had blocked the one aimed straight for his head. The sword, naturally, was not held by his hands; but when Asbel craned his head back a bit more, he saw that his father was standing over him, sword in hand.

"W-Who . . ." the bandit asked, backing away. Asbel's father lowered his sword, though he didn't put it away.

"I'm Aston Lhant," he said, and he sounded angrier than Asbel had ever heard him sound before, "and I suggest – for your own good – that you get as far away from my sons as possible."

The bandits looked at each other, seemingly struck dumb for a minute, before they turned and bolted down the path, hastening to put as much distance between themselves and Asbel and Hubert as possible. Asbel's father motioned to a few of the guards standing behind him, and they immediately gave chase, their armor clanking loudly as they ran. Asbel, on the other hand, moved as quietly as he could, tossing his stick to the side and crouching down so that he could check on Hubert. His father, however – his sword sheathed – reached down and picked Hubert up easily off the ground, though he cradled him with a lot more care than the bandits had. Seeing as how he could no longer check on Hubert, Asbel looked past his father and saw that Cheria and Frederic were standing just behind him, Cheria looking incredibly worried.

"Frederic," Asbel's father said, turning to face his servant, "you can take Cheria home now. I can handle things from here."

"Yes, sir." Frederic put a hand on Cheria's head, leading her back to town. "Cheria, come with me. Let's get you some tea."

"Okay, Grandpa." Cheria spared Asbel another look, raising her hand in a wave. "Bye, Asbel. See you later. Let me know how Hubert is, okay?"

Asbel nodded. "I will." For some reason, he couldn't raise his voice very much, and he felt incredibly tiny next to his father – tinier than he'd ever felt. And for the first time since that encounter, his father looked down, and made contact with him.

"Asbel. Let's go home."

The disappointment and anger rang clear in his father's voice, and Asbel kept his eyes on the ground as they headed back to Lhant. The circus was still underway as if nothing had happened, but the loud noises and bright colors no longer seemed appealing. Every now and then, Asbel looked up at his brother's unconscious form in their father's arms, or tried to match his strides to his father's long ones. He couldn't, no matter how hard he tried, and I was almost hard for him to believe that he'd started that day feeling so confident and in control.

As soon as they reached the manor's grounds, Asbel's mother ran out to meet them, nearly crying as she fussed over Hubert. Asbel held his hands behind his back, kicking lightly at the ground, before she swooped down on him as well, grabbing him in a fierce, almost lung crushing hug.

"Mom—Mom, I'm okay!" Asbel tried to squirm out of her grasp, but she seemed reluctant to let him go. "It's not me you should worry about, it's Hubert—"

"That's exactly right." Asbel stiffened and looked up, though his father wasn't looking at him. Instead, his father merely stared straight ahead at the manor, his voice low and tight. "We don't know what they did to put Hubert in this state, which will make it difficult to care for him. I told you to watch out for your little brother, Asbel. You don't know how upset I am that you didn't listen to me."

"I . . . I only looked away for a minute," Asbel said, but the excuse sounded weak even to his own ears. "I—I didn't want anything bad to happen to him, I just—Cheria—"

"Don't blame Cheria for this." His father's voice was harsh, like a slap, and Asbel flinched. "You and your brother both could have died - _would _ have died, had Cheria not gone for help - and it was a direct result of _your _actions. Blaming others for what you yourself did isn't a way for a man to act."

"Aston," Asbel's mother tried, as Asbel turned his eyes to the ground again, "please, what's most important is that they're both all right. We'll know better for next time, we simply won't let them go to things like that again—"

"You're absolutely right, Kerri," Asbel's father said, and he finally started to carry Hubert back to the manor. "We most certainly won't."

Asbel watched his parents take his little brother inside the manor, and though he knew he should follow - though he knew he was grounded, quite possibly for life - he didn't. Instead, he walked over to sit on one of the benches by the fountain, feeling lower than he'd ever felt, and not just because his parents were angry with him.

Hubert had almost died. His little brother was almost _killed_. Asbel wasn't the type to not care about his own safety, but his own condition did pale in comparison to that of his little brother. If something had actually happened to Hubert - if Hubert had been seriously hurt, or worse, killed - then Asbel didn't know what he'd do. He pulled his knees up to his chest, hugging them tightly, staring hard at the ground. Before that moment, he'd always thought that he alone was enough to protect his brother. He always had been in the past. When Hubert had hurt himself, Asbel made sure that he got bandaged up properly. When Hubert was scared due to nightmares or imaginary monsters at night, Asbel was the one that offered him protection. But now . . . now it seemed like he needed something more-like he needed protection that was more than what Asbel could give him.

And, like lightning, a spot of inspiration struck him in that moment.

Asbel looked over his shoulder, glancing back at the manor. There was no sign of his parents. Carefully, he climbed off the bench, and started down toward the end of the lane. As soon as he reached it, he bolted around the corner, running full-pelt back toward the main plaza of Lhant, toward the circus. He no longer cared about seeing the monster tamers or getting cotton candy, but there was one thing they sold there that he absolutely had to have.

He could only hope that he wasn't too late.

* * *

><p>Hubert was unconscious for about five hours, and when he woke up, he seemed stricken with a horrendous migraine and a scratchy, sore throat. Their mother fussed over him, ensuring that he got medicine, water, and a cool compress for his head, while Asbel sat over on his bed, watching. He wanted to say that <em>he <em>could take care of Hubert, that _he _could make sure Hubert got what he needed, but he felt as though that would likely make the situation worse, so he refrained.

Still, when their mother finally left their room, Asbel hopped off his bed and went over to sit on Hubert's, instead. Hubert hadn't gone back to sleep, though he looked weary, his eyes half-open as he laid back on his pillows. When Asbel bounded over to sit on his little brother's bed, though, Hubert pushed himself up into a more upright position, smiling a little. "Hey, big brother," he said, and is voice still sounded scratchy. Asbel frowned.

"Don't push yourself, Hubert. You need to rest." Hubert shook his head.

"No, I'm fine. I was out for a really long time. I don't wanna go back to sleep." He looked down at his blanket, though, and started toying with the hem. Asbel recognized the action as a sheepish one. "I'm sorry, though, Azzy. I know you got in trouble for it." Asbel stared at Hubert in a small degree of shock.

"_You're _sorry? For what? Jeez, Hubert. For someone so smart, you really are dumb sometimes." Hubert looked up, and he looked a bit indignant. Though Asbel would never say it out loud - because he was nine, and nine year old boys did _not _admit stuff like this, even about their little brothers - it was kinda cute.

"I am not dumb!"

"You're being dumb now," Asbel insisted. "It wasn't your fault, Hubert. It's not like you got kidnapped on purpose." Hubert looked down at the blanket again, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth.

"I know," he said quietly. "But . . ."

"But nothing," Asbel cut him off, and then he reached into his sweatshirt pocket, pulling something out. "But hey, I got you something. Just to make sure nothing like this ever happens again." He held his hand out to Hubert, and Hubert - curiosity washing away residual sadness or sheepishness - reached out to gently take the small object from Asbel's palm.

"What's this?"

"It's a good luck charm," Asbel said, and he grinned as Hubert stared at the small tag in wonder. "A cryas good luck charm, to be exact. It'll keep you safe, no matter what, just in case I'm not around to protect you." Of course, it wasn't actually filled with cryas. They sold the empty charms at the circus, but not the cryas to go with them, and - at age nine - Asbel didn't exactly have enough resources to go procure cryas himself. So, naturally, he did the next best thing: he snuck into the kitchen, got some pepper, and filled the charm with that instead. But Hubert had no way of knowing that, and if Asbel said it was cryas, then it was cryas. He was the big brother, after all; he was always right, about everything. "You know, just in case."

"Just in case . . ." Hubert closed his fingers around the good luck charm, and then looked up at Asbel with a smile so bright it was like he'd never even been kidnapped in the first place. "Thanks, Azzy. Thanks a lot!"

"No problem, little bro-hey!" Asbel laughed as Hubert tackled him in a hug, sending them both sprawling on the bed. "Be careful! You've still gotta rest!"

"I'm fine!" Hubert insisted, though he did crawl off his brother, still grinning as bright as the sun. "I really am. You're the best big brother ever, you know?"

Asbel returned his little brother's smile, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "Yeah," he agreed, a bit cheekily. "I know."


End file.
